


Happy Anniversary

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Anal Sex, BDSM, F/F, F/M, Oral Sex, Post-Hogwarts, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: What wife wouldn't want to surprise her spouse on their anniversary?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22
Collections: Anonymous





	Happy Anniversary

No one had expected Voldemort to win, but he had nonetheless done so. After Harry was killed in the forest the Death Eaters made short work of executing many notable opponents that had remained at Hogwarts, leaving any hopes of organised resistance in tatters. Those who were left had done their best to flee to other countries, his family was no different. As per his usual rotten luck however Ron found himself captured almost immediately, spending too long gathering supplies for him and Hermione. In the year since then he’d heard rumours that some of his family managed to flee or because of diplomatic niceties wanted by the new regime had been afforded safe passage while he caught glimpses of others in their “befitting station” at various events to immortalise the victory. The last word he received of Hermione was months ago that she was fleeing to Australia, hoping to find her parents and find support for action. His fate in the meantime found him wishing he was back in prison.

The Magical Reclamation Act had been one of the first acts of the new regime, putting in place their new world order. Muggleborns had been reduced to little more than slaves while Halfbloods were second-class citizens with few rights. All Purebloods were quickly married off to replace the losses from the War, with even “blood traitors” forcibly included as an attempt to “offer redemption to them”. His path to redemption being married to the pug-faced bitchqueen herself.

He’d never hated anyone more, every interaction in her large empty manor being one of her taunting him for any reason she felt like doing with his family, friends, and failures being frequent topics but none came up more than his “filthy mudblood girlfriend” having run off without him with mocking mentions of her having forgotten him, abandoned him, found someone who’d put her in her place. She knew she could get away with it, his wand having been snapped and the contract allowing punishment of others for any action he took to hurt “someone worthy of magic”. He’d learnt the hard way having seen the bruises and cuts that had marked those of his family who were left from his previous outburst. The only form of rebellion he’d found was left to him was during the mandated weekly coupling, both able to be punished for failing to undertake it.

As he looked down at her completely disinterested face he kept a fast uncaring pace of thrusts, aiming as always to finish as soon as possible and leaving her unsatisfied, avoiding touching any part of her that would give her some feeling of pleasure and pinning her arms to the bed in an attempt to prevent her getting herself off. It was a game to him and clearly it worked, the only time he smiled these days was hearing her moan and scream through the walls after he left the room to sleep in his own bed. As she had done for many weeks now she gave him a cruel smirk after he finally emptied himself inside her, only this time he found himself flying through the air and into a nearby chair, bound and gagged into it.

“I know, I know, you must be very confused right now dearest husband,” she sneered with an amused glare as she stalked towards him to stand in the middle of the room, still naked as the day she was born with her wand in hand, “but what sort of wife would I be if I didn’t celebrate our first year of matrimony?”

At that he heard the door behind him open and watch as a cloaked figure shuffled in to stand naturally beside Pansy, “I hope you appreciate the effort I’ve gone through to acquire this item. It wasn’t cheap I assure you,” she announced with an evil smile as she reached up and removed the hood to leave him stunned. The face of the woman he loved, that he still pictured so passionate and stubborn, hung down demurely with no fight over her position to be seen, “don’t be ashamed my sweet, show your former lover your new look.”

Hermione obeyed on command, reaching her arms up to the clasp at her neck to let the robe fall away to reveal her equally nude form as he tried to look away. Her neck was encased in a silver coiled snake while her soft breasts had been pierced, emerald on silver glinting from rings that hung from her nipples, but it was the sight below that made him cry, her labia lined with a row of rings tied together that he quickly guessed kept it tightly shut. His view of her lower entrance was obstructed further as a hand gave a slight pass over the rings, “oh you don’t approve? Well it’s mostly for show anyway, the potions we fed her have made sure there’s no chance of her bearing any disgusting impure brood… and unlike the ones I’ve been taking they’re not going to wear off.”

His head pounded, his dreams of a future family of argumentative nerdy kids with ginger hair and bright cinnamon eyes fading into nothing, to the point he barely heard the command of her to turn around to reveal the large crest tattooed on her back that marked her as property of the Parkinson family, “I do like how this came out, I’m so glad I talked them out of branding her with irons. Oh dear husband, don’t die from shock just yet. You haven’t seen how well I’ve trained her to accept her true place,” she spoke, refusing to relent from torturing him further, “give him a show.”

At this Hermione had dropped to her knees in front of Pansy, forcing Ron to stare at the tattoo on her arched back as she began to eat out his wife with practiced ease as the dominant woman kept a controlling hand in Hermione’s now tamed curls, “that’s a good pet, clean out his unworthy seed from me”. Pansy continued to control her as Hermione’s hands sat on her thighs, clenching into them every so often.

Eventually he heard his wife sigh before turning them sideways so Ron was forced to see the way Hermione looked up at her, the look of devotion on her face as Pansy with a cruel affection cupped and stroked her jaw, “you did very well pet. But why don’t you show our guest your other love before you’re rewarded hmm,” Pansy requested before turning around and giving a vicious smile to her husband before he was forced to watch as Hermione gladly shoved her face between Pansy’s pale arsecheeks, causing Pansy to arch her head skyward and cry out slightly. He watched in disbelief as Hermione soon wrapped her hands around her target’s waist and pull her face even further into Pansy’s rear causing the standing woman to laugh and put another knife into Ron’s heart, “she was hesitant to explore her needs at first, wasn’t long though before she put that work ethic of hers into becoming the best at even her own perverted desires,” before she finally came with a cry.

Once she recovered she glided over to a nearby set of drawers as Hermione remained dutifully on her knees where she was left, her face never once drifting from Pansy’s form as though Ron wasn’t even in the room, before seeming to shake with need as Pansy pulled out a harness with a large phallus attached and showed it to her, “yes, I knew you’d like this,” she praised before stepping into and tightening it around her own waist. She walked back to Hermione before guiding her to lean over the bed, her round arse presented for the pair to see revealing a circular silver shape encrusted with more emeralds blocking direct view of her arsehole. Ignoring Ron for the moment Pansy held her down with a hand to her back before reaching in and slowly easing the plug out, Hermione’s low moans for all to hear throughout. Once it was removed Pansy stood up fully again, “hmm what to do with this,” she falsely questioned before fixing eyes on her still captive husband, “oh I know”.

He desperately tried to pull his arms from their bindings on the armrests to no avail before Pansy bent in front of him and removed the gag only to force the plug into his mouth, the slimy feel and foul taste overwhelming all his senses, before replacing the gag firmly in place. As he desperately tried to avoid puking from his new situation he was forced to watch as Pansy manipulated Hermione onto all fours facing him on top of the sheets he’d only so recently fucked Pansy on before Pansy kneeled behind her. He was forced to watch as Hermione’s face scrunched slightly before morphing into a visage of pleasure as Pansy sunk into her behind and began to move in and out. Much like himself earlier she began to set a brutal pace into the woman, looking directly at Ron as Hermione’s unfocused eyes wandered straight through him. But it wasn’t the taste of Hermione’s rectum or that stare that broke him.

What broke him was when Hermione began to scream and cry out, the same screams and cries he recognised hearing in the building all this time.

After what seemed like an eternity of increasingly desperate thrusting Pansy viciously pulled Hermione’s hair, raising her head up further before pulling her up entirely into her lap still facing Ron, one hand controlling planted on her hip and the other tugging one of the nipple rings as Hermione’s arms attempts to link behind her, Pansy smiling in triumph at Ron over Hermione’s shoulder as she began sending her orders, “do you love this pet?”

“Yes, yes,” Hermione panted with need, looking to the ceiling by this point, “I love it. I want it. I **need** it.”

“That’s good pet, who do you love?”

“You, only you,” she preached to the woman still fucking her in the arse with effort, sweat visible on her forehead as she shook with each hard thrust into her rear.

“Who do you belong to, pet?”

“I belong to you,” she whined before crying out as her nipple was pulled harder.

“I don’t believe you. Who do you belong to,” Pansy instructed firmly before biting hard enough on her neck to draw blood, a rivulet of which slowly ran down her front.

“YOU, I BELONG TO YOU MISTRESS,” she cried in desperation as she shuddered in orgasm before Pansy let her fall form in a limp pile. Ron’s eyes remained fixed on her mass until he felt the hand of his wife pull his hair to make him face her, a final smirk on her face.

“Happy anniversary.”

* * *

He felt the body on top of him move up and down upon his hard member, his mind fuzzy as he imagined a night long ago where Hermione had displayed a look of ecstasy from that position, only to be pulled back to reality as he limply lifted up in completion into the now heavily pregnant form of his wife in name only.

She took pride in reminding him the baby had no chance of being his.

“We’re done here,” she spoke with no emotion before pushing him towards the edge of the bed, forcing him to walk still naked past the patiently waiting form of the woman he once loved, kneeled in place without a glance of recognition towards him.

She only had eyes for Pansy now.

He wandered down the hall and into his room, the moans and screams already having started to emanate from the room he’d just left, before tiredly clambering into bed and being forced to face the gift he received on his second anniversary that hung on the far wall.

A large oil painting depicting his naked wife stood head held high with an aristocratic look and smirk on her face, as one hand cradled her distended stomach and the other held a simple chain that connected to the collar of the kneeled figure of Hermione Granger who stared up with her head gently leant on her mistress’ belly, a look of longing and admiration plain for all to see as the sounds of rough sex came through the wall it hung on. He didn’t cry as he fell asleep.

He didn’t feel anything anymore.


End file.
